Does it Really Matter?
by ecmada
Summary: How Lucy impacted Mrs. Lovett's life. I hate summaries. I suck at them.


It is the most ungodly hour- three o'clock in the bloody morning- and I am awake. When I am awake at three in the morning, I am often soothing the sobbing Johanna or staring sadly at my shop, wondering how everything went wrong. If I am soothing the sobbing Johanna, it is because Lucy is deep in her dreams of her beloved Benjamin, and I want her to feel whole and at peace for once. If that means waking up and kissing a baby that is not mine, then so be it. If I am staring sadly at my shop and wondering how everything went wrong, it is because I am feeling nostalgic for past experiences that I know shall never be.

But it is not Johanna that woke me. It is not sadness. Rather, it is Lucy Barker, my best friend, my sister except by blood. She shakes my shoulders incessantly. I wonder if there is a fire and if we shall all be burnt to a crisp. Won't that be lovely?

"Lucy, Lucy, wot's wrong?" I ask groggily and I rub the sleep out of my eyes. "Fire? Burglary? If someone's burgling us, then just beat him with the rolling pin. It's not that hard…"

"The Judge! The devil! The devil!" she screams suddenly in my eye. Her normally lovely voice is harsh and thin.

"The devil, dearie? you know I'm not religious-"

"THE JUDGE IS THE D----D DEVIL!" she howls. I open my eyes and nearly scream. The beauty and kindness is lost in her eyes and it is replaced with a disparity and horror. Her hands shake, her jaw is slack, her hair is ruffled, her dress is stained with-

My heart stops. "Dearie, he didn't."

"He did, he did, he made me be unfaithful to my dear Benjamin!" She sobs and places her head on my shoulder. I freeze and say slowly,

"Hold on a tick. You aren't crying because he raped you-" I all but shudder at the evil of the word- "You are crying because you think were unfaithful to Mistah Barker?"

"Yes! I was with another man while I am married to him! Oh, d---n my eyes!" She claws at her eyes and she draws blood. I hiss in distaste (how I hate melodrama!) and I carefully pull her hands onto my lap.

"Lucy, go to sleep," I say in a firm voice. "You are tired and we shall deal with this in the morning."

Thank the possibly nonexistent god that she is as obedient as a schoolgirl. She collapses into my side, and I carry/drag her to be bed. She collapses on her bed and I hear gentle snoring. I do not bother removing her clothing and changing her into a nightgown. Instead, I move to Johanna and watch her in the crib. She is not asleep. She watches me with wide brown eyes, her father's eyes. I sigh and carry her downstairs.

"Do you want milk?" I ask wearily. She stares at me. What am I doing, talking to a baby? Oh well, I have no one else to talk to, so what if the person I finally do talk to is just a baby and cannot talk back. "No, you aren't hungry or thirsty or whatever."

We reach my shop. It looks disgusting. Positively disgusting. The floors need sweeping, the windows need washing, pies need baking, people need to be here…

"You know how come people don't come in here anymore, Johanna?" I say suddenly. "Ya see, people came because I put happiness and contentment into me pies. I'm not happy all that often any more. I'm sure not content. So when I bake, I'm just putting in the ingredients, and the people can taste me anger and bitterness I keep inside. And it tastes God-awful." I laugh. "I have the reputation now of making the worst pies in London now. It's funny. I used to be the best baker…. That is until your father was taken."

I look at the baby. Such a pretty baby. I never had much patience with children until Lucy had her own. I was always fond of her husband, Benjamin, with his small smiles and his gentle demeanor. It never blossomed into anything more, since he was married to my Lucy. And I would never stoop to such a low level of falling in love with my best friend's husband. Never.

But I like to believe that I loved Albert for the brief three years that I knew him, and the two years that we were married. He didn't talk much- he was always stuffing his fat mouth with food- but still. The way he looked at me said he loved me. And was that enough for marriage? One sided love? He could provide for me, and I could make him happy by simply being myself…

"Johanna," I say after a moment of silence. "Your mother isn't truly your mother, I think. Sure, she gave birth to you, but that means nothing. My mum left me on the orphanage's front step. Is she still my mum? No. My mum is the one who raised me right. You had a father, but he was taken. You had a mother, but she was taken by grief. You're an orphan now, just like me." I smile at her fondly. "Your father was an orphan too. We three have that in common.

"But I don't think you'll be an orphan for long. Your father will come back. The Fates pay attention to the good. They make sure they come back. Besides, your father loves you far too much to leave you alone for too long."

Three Weeks Later

I stare at the bed and clench my fists. I can hardly breathe, let alone think.

The bed is empty. The covers are thrown back. Lucy has spent the last three days in bed. She is not in bed. That is bad. Why? I don't know.

I look out the window and I see her stumble across the busy street. The people of London point at her and cackle. They have heard the rumors and confirmed just by seeing her disheveled appearance. She is oblivious and walks away, towards some building across the street around the corner.

The apothecary .

S—t.

I run down the stairs and scream,

"Wait! Wait, Lucy, wait!"

I run as fast as my skirts and corsets can allow me, which is not very fast, but I reach the apothecary about a minute after she does. I hear her make the purchase:

"Arsenic. Have rats in my house. Give me a large bottle of the stuff. I want to kill them all off. No, it's not necessary to give me the liquid form, just give me the powder. I have water at my house. Can I just put it on my tab? Thank you."

I run up to her and ignore the blaring sirens in my head that scream "potential scandal" and I hiss,

"Lucy, you don't have to do that!"

"Yes, I do," she says simply. "I have to kill the rats. I saw them scurrying around Johanna's cradle. No matter how many times you say they are harmless, Eleanor, I believe them to be disgusting creatures that carry diseases that can kill the last precious thing I have in my life."

"But-"

"I have to kill them. What is the point of keeping the impure, revolting creatures of the world alive, leaving the innocent and pure defenseless?" She turns to me with a horrifyingly dead stare. "I have been negligent to my daughter. I must see to rid of all the wickedness in her life."

"You aren't wicked," I whisper. I take her hand and I feel tears forming in my eyes. The people in the apothecary stare. Forget them. "Please. Don't."

"I have to kill the rats, Eleanor," says my Lucy. "You have always had a fondness for the morbid. That is why you kept the rats around for so long."

"No! No!" I cry, but I must play along with her game. It is what she wants, and so she shall have it. "I like the rats, they provide me company while I'm alone."

"Now, who is sounding like the mad woman, now?" Lucy gently pushes past me and walks out of the apothecary. I follow her with tears pouring around down my face.

God! We need a miracle!

Lucy stops in the middle of the street and she looks upward. The sky was once blue, now it is an ugly grey that I fear that I shall see for years to come. She smiles, much like the innocent and happy Lucy that I knew and loved before all this madness happened.

She raises the bottle of lithium above her head and she cries for all to hear,

"See what you have done to me, London? See what you have done to me, Judge Turpin? See what I have come to!" She sobs. "My Benjamin, my Johanna, my Nellie, my life!"

She opens the lid and turns the horrible, white powder into her open mouth. It flies over her face like powder and she chokes on the large amount. Women scream and children cry. A few men start to move to stop her, but I am the only person there that rushes to her side.

What am I doing, trying to stop her? She wants to die. She will be done with her heartbreak.

She collapses to the ground with her eyes open. I know she is breathing, but in shock. I close her eyes so she can rest a bit. The men finally move when they perceive her to be dead, and they carry her down the street, possibly to a coroner.

Lucy Barker is done. As am I.


End file.
